


Morning Star

by Wolfsbanedraft



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angel Soulbonds, Angst, But his face does that thing, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, He's kind of a dick, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, Possessive Lucifer, Protective Lucifer, Reader-Insert, Smut, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Wing Kink, fucking better ending, non-canon ending, sassifer, supernatural x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15585231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbanedraft/pseuds/Wolfsbanedraft
Summary: God gave all his children soulmates, his most unruly archangel was no exception. Now freed from the cage Lucifer is hellbent on finding his soulmate. A soulmate that has no idea what their life is about to turn into.This is set in season 5 then will continue to season 12/13 in later chapters, so don't read if you're just staring out or mind spoilers.





	1. Heartless

 

“I don’t understand,” You said into the phone. It was wedged precariously between your ear and shoulder as you fiddled with your keys. “I was told the delivery of monkswood and silver would be here before opening.” The wooden door swung open finally and you shuffled in with your baggage. Breathing in the familiar scent of hardwood and spices you placed your bags down before turning on the lights. “I see. . . A mudslide? Yeah I understand. . . No I have a bit left I should be good till tomorrow. Right. Goodbye.” The phone went silent and you let out a long sigh. Dealing with hunters was bad enough but dealing with their suppliers was even worse. 

 

‘Wait,’ You thought. ‘I’m a supplier now too aren’t I.’ Another sigh escaped your lips at the realisation. It had been almost a year since you set up shop here in Mystic, Connecticut- yes, the name of this picturesque town did play a small part in choosing it- and you’d dealt with your fair share of hunters in your time. Hell, sometimes even the stray witch or demon. It wasn’t always easy work but it was what you knew, what you were good at. With practiced steps you put away today’s packages before flipping the closed sign on the window. Hopefully today would turn out better than you expected.

 

\-- Meanwhile --

 

The doors on the Impala shut with a familiar metal thud. The boys had just gotten back from their latest crime scene and were thoroughly stumped. This was the second body they’d found since getting into town and they weren’t getting any closer to finding the creature responsible. The bite marks and the mauling of the victim were all signs of a werewolf but the heart was still intact.

 

Sam sighed and slumped back in his seat. “Maybe it’s a ghoul?” He suggested halfheartedly, earning a scoff from Dean.

 

“There weren’t any signs of a struggle, and ghouls usually don’t leave that much of a corpse behind. And the claw marks?” He ran a hand over his face tiredly. “I think we may have to call Bobby on this one, Sammy.” The taller Winchester could only give a defeated nod as his brother pulled out his phone.

 

Bobby answered after the second ring, thankfully he’d been at his desk, the wheelchair made it difficult to move around his cluttered home with any speed. “What?” He answered coarsely. 

 

“What?” Dean repeated. “Well it’s good to talk to you too Bobby.” 

 

“Can it, idjit. It’s been a long day, what do you boys want?”

 

“Well we’ve got a bit of a situation here, Bobby. We’re in Mystic, Connecticut, looking into the maulings-”

 

“Yeah, the werewolf, right?” Bobby interrupted. 

 

“About that. . . It’s not a werewolf. The heart was still in this last victim and there was so much of it left. We’ve ruled out most of the common monsters, ghouls, vamps, the works.” Dean explained. “And before you ask there wasn’t anything on or around the bodies. No sulfur, no EMF, no nothin.” Dean heard Bobby sigh over the phone and he could picture the exasperated look on the man’s face.

 

“Alright I’ll look into it. You boys should check in with a local hunter. (Y/N)(L/N), she runs the Morning Star, good place for any hunters passing through.” 

 

“Okay, thanks Bobby. And hey, if you need to talk. . . You know you can call us, right?” Dean told him, voice hushed. There was silence on the line for what seemed like forever before Bobby croaked out ‘right’ and hung up. “Well. . . That went well.” 

 

“He did just get paralysed.” Said Sam as his brother started the engine. “Maybe we should give him a break.

 

“Yeah. . . Yeah.” Dean sighed. “Let’s just go talk to this hunter chick and see where that gets us.”

 

Minutes later the impala pulled up beside a small brick shop, the words ‘Herbs & Tea’ were painted underneath one of the windows. The boys got out, still in their FBI suits, and strode towards the door. Sam got there first, looking down at the silver door handle before glancing back at his brother. They stepped in and were greeted by the jingle of a bell and the smell of a spice rack. The shop had rows of bookshelves lining the walls, some filled with mason jars others with books. The brothers walked up to a wooden desk and Dean immediately reached out and slammed the bell on the counter.

 

“What?” He asked incredulously. “It  _ says _ ring for assistance.” His brother gave him his trademark stare as a, slightly disheveled, girl made her way out of a back room. Dean straightened up, a cocky smirk on his face, as he saw her- or as I should say- you. He leaned against the counter seductively. Ready to pull out his FBI badge which, in his mind, always impressed the ladies. 

 

“Hi! Sorry, just putting away some tea filters.” You said. You let your eyes wander over the two men all hopes of them actually being paying customers gone when you saw their faces. “Sam and Dean Winchester? Really?” You slumped back against the wall, arms crossed. “Is this about the freaking werewolf? Isn’t that a little lowbrow for you guys?”

 

“Again with the- It’s not a werewolf okay?” Dean looked shocked for a second before his outburst. Sam gave you a tight lipped smile at his brother’s antics.

 

“Yeah. You must be (Y/N).” Observed Sam. “I’m guessing you know us through Bobby?”

 

“Mhmm. Bobby’s a good friend, I’ve helped him and he’s helped me. I’ve heard enough about you two to know if you’re here then something’s up.” You looked between the men briefly. “So if it’s not a werewolf what is it? More apocalypse stuff?”

 

“Maybe, we’re not entirely sure it’s a werewolf.”

 

“Yeah I got that.” You chuckled. “How so?”

 

“Didn’t take the heart. That and everything’s too clean.” Dean finally piped up. 

 

“That is strange. . .” Your (E/C) eyes moved from the hunters to the door you came from. “I suppose we better get down to business.” Motioning for the boys to follow you made your way back into the store’s private library. They trailed after you, albeit cautiously, and were surprised by how organised everything was. The wooden bookshelves from the public face of the store continued into the back only this time they were absolutely stacked with books and scrolls. “And of course by ‘business’ I mean research. I’m sure Bobby’s doing the same thing right now but it never hurts to put a little extra work in.” The two Winchesters put up less of a fight then you thought they would, opting to grab a stack of books each with grimaces on their faces. “I’ll go grab us some tea.”

 

“Coffee?” Dean asked hopefully.

 

“Tea.” With that final word you left the boys to deal with the mass of literature alone, at least until the kettle boiled.


	2. Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda dialog heavy but I reaaallly wanted to get the backstory started.

“A Keelut.” Sam said triumphantly. His voice broke Dean and you out of your stupor. Dean looked even worse than you, and he’d had twice as much of your strongest black tea. 

 

“What?” You grunted.

 

“A Keelut, it’s a type of Native American monster.” He slid the book over to you but it was quickly snatched by his brother. Though it wasn’t like you needed it.

 

“No, I mean- it’s an Inuit myth, yes. But this is Connecticut, I could maybe see one going as far as Montreal but that’s still a little iffy.”

 

“True, especially when you consider the Keelut is basically a werewolf without any of the human attributes.” Sam added. “It would be hard for a dog to make it across a continent.”

 

Dean looked up from the lore book. “So, what? This is like a movie werewolf? Big dog on two legs?”

 

“Kind of- the Keelut is usually only seen as a harbinger of death- like, like the Grim from Harry Potter?” Sam nodded in understanding while Dean stared at the two of you vacantly. You swore he whispered ‘nerds’ under his breath. “I’ve never heard of one eating live people too, they’re usually like carrion birds, they just feed on open carcasses.” You looked at the Winchesters as they took in the information. Sam looked like he was about to pass out and Dean had been staring at the same page since he grabbed the book. You couldn’t blame them, a quick check of your phone told you it was already 2 a.m. . “Do you guys have a place to stay tonight?”

 

“Yeah, the Starlight Motel over on Main.” Dean’s eyes followed you as you stood up and stretched.

 

“You should go then. There’s no use getting exhausted and useless, just come back here tomorrow and we’ll see what we can find.” The two of them couldn’t argue with your logic or their own drooping eyelids and made their way out of the room. As you ushered them out of the shop Sam stopped you at the door.

 

“I just wanted to say thanks for helping us, I know we showed up here pretty suddenly. I just- thanks.” You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face at his attempt to thank you. It was hard to believe such a hunk of a man could be so adorable. 

 

“It’s alright.” You chuckled, patting his arm comfortingly. As you locked up you didn’t miss the wide grin and thumbs up Dean gave his brother, before realising you could see him. You’d never seen a man’s face go from ecstatic to ‘oh shit’ quite so fast. With one last quiet laugh you turned the lights off and retired to the loft upstairs. 

  
  


“So she’s somethin’ huh?” Pried Dean. He looked over at his brother conspiratorially as they entered their motel room. 

 

“Dude.” Sam groaned, throwing his jacket and bag onto his bed. “Can you stop being such a horndog for once?”  

 

“Hey, if you’re not interested. . .” He trailed off suggestively. The two of them continued to get ready to turn in for the night before Dean suddenly shot up. “We forgot to call Bobby back.” 

 

“Wow, the last time you did that didn’t he drive out to where we were hunting?” Sam chuckled. “You better call him.”

 

“It’s like three in the morning! . . . Fine, fine! Stop looking at me like that, I’m calling him!” Huffed Dean. He slumped down on one of the rickety motel chairs and pulled out his phone, glaring at Sammy as it rang.

 

“Boy, it is three in the morning, what do you want?” Dean gave his brother a pointed look at the older man’s voice.

 

“Sorry about that, Bobby. Sam thought we should catch you up on the case. We met up with that hunter, (Y/N). She and Sam think it could be a Keelut, you’re on speaker.”

 

“In the US? . . . Well, I guess it is the apocalypse. I’ll try to dig up some more lore one it but it’s a rare one.”

 

“Thanks, Bobby. We’ll probably go hunting for it tomorrow, see if anybody knows anything. The usual.”

 

“As long as you’re not including (Y/N) in that,” Bobby chuckled. “You can ask but I doubt she’d actually hunt with you boys.” 

 

Sam raised an eyebrow at that. “She seemed like she was fine working with us before.” 

 

“Oh she loves the research part of it but the poor girl hasn’t gone on an actual hunt since the damn cage blew open.”

 

Sam and Dean waited a minute before realising he wasn’t planning on continuing without a nudge or two. “Well?” They asked.

 

Bobby groaned, grumbling ‘I should’a kept my damn mouth shut’. “You didn’t hear any of this from me, got it? . . . Once the cage opened up something hit that girl hard. You remember your visions Sam? Well she’s been having the same problem, only this time she isn’t predicting the future she’s just gettin’ a slideshow in her head. . . After hearing about what happened with you, Sam, she didn’t want to take any chances.” The boys shifted in uncomfortable silence once Bobby was done. Sam didn’t know what to think, you’d seemed so normal when he met you. He had no idea you were going through something like this, something that he had experienced before. On the other hand, Dean was worrying about his brother like always. He knew Sam would try to help you even if you turned out to be a threat.Which, of course, he hoped to God you wouldn’t be. But after everything that had happened . . . He felt like he couldn’t trust anybody. 

 

At home in your bedroom you were asleep and blissfully unaware of the Winchester’s conversation. You had the first dream of many that night. Flashes of feelings and images replayed constantly. Ice blue eyes. Hands running over your sides. Stubble brushing against your cheek. Cool lips pressed against yours. They weren’t necessarily bad dreams but you couldn’t shake the feeling they meant something more. You tried to push the thought from your mind. You couldn’t take much more of this, of these visions. Hunting used to make you happy. . . But that was back when you were normal. Back before everything changed.


	3. The Jaws of Love

 

You had a million excuses if anyone ever asked you why you stopped hunting. ‘I’m allergic to vampires.’ ‘I sprained my huntin bone.’ ‘I do hunt, just not when you’re around.’ You doubted any of those would work on the Winchesters. You doubted the real reason would work either. It had been over a month now since your last case, and at the time you had no idea it would be the last case you ever worked. 

 

Five children had gone missing in a small town south of Montreal in the span of two weeks. No bodies had been found, and honestly, that was probably for the best. Thanks to your friends in bad places you’d discovered a demon had set up shop nearby. A butchers shop. The hunt went relatively well in the beginning, gather intel, investigate the sites of the disappearances, find the thing that did it. Well- you found it alright.

 

Demons as a whole loved irony. So it didn’t come as a shock when you tracked it to an abandoned church. The next part could be chalked up to hubaris, too many easy hunts lead to a slow hunter. 

 

But you walked into that church without any back up and had your throat slashed for your efforts.

 

It hurt worse than anything you’d ever felt. Your head fell back, almost completely severed, as you choked on your own blood. Your vision blurred, in your last few seconds of consciousness you saw the demon grinning down at you. 

 

And then you were back. 

 

Your throat was healed in an instant and if it wasn’t for the mouthful of blood you’d have thought you were hallucinating. You emptied your stomach onto the church floor, disgusted with the amount of blood you had swallowed. Panting, you hauled yourself up, every nerve in your body burning as you locked eyes with the demon. Two minutes later you walked out of the church covered in blood. Not a scratch on you. 

 

Bobby was the only person you’d told about any of this. You had called the man as soon as you got back to your hotel and again days later when the visions started. It was Bobby that told you about the apocalypse. How at almost the exact moment of your first vision the cage had been unlocked. And it was Bobby who talked you through leaving hunting, at least the physical part, when you had no idea if you could trust yourself anymore.

 

Though today, unbeknownst to you, Dean Winchester was going to prove that you still had it in you.

  
  


“Forget me nots?” You asked again. The boys had swung by the following morning bringing news from Bobby. The Keelut could only be killed with a silver blade coated with a poison made from Forget Me Not flowers. It was a strange combination but you weren’t going to question Bobby about it. He had apparently pulled an all nighter last night as Sam and Dean not only knew how to kill him but had a few ideas on how to track it down too. “ I might be able to find those at one of the local flower shops. But- you said you’re using ME as bait?” Your gaze flicked from man to man. “Me?” 

 

“If you’re alright with it. The past few victims have all been female, walking alone at night through the northern edge of town. . . We figure you go and walk around for a bit and we’ll see what pops out.” You looked at Sam hopelessly for a moment before burying your head in your hands. You were already regretting letting them into your living room. 

 

“We know you haven’t been in the game for a while,” Dean reassured you. “But Bobby said you kicked some ass back in your day.”

 

“Back in my day?” You parroted. “What am I, thirty? I have my reasons why I stopped hunting, and it damn well wasn’t because I lost my edge.” Dean tried not to look overly hurt at your quip about being thirty. He didn’t think thirty was old at all, and that had nothing to do with him creeping up on his thirtieth birthday.

 

“Okay- well- Whatever your reasons are, you’re still a hunter. Even if you just sell tea all day.”

 

“Er, what my brother is trying to say is, you’d be saving lives.” Sam looked between the two of you nervously before turning his puppy dog eyes onto you. “We’ll be there if anything goes wrong, (Y/N).”

 

Crossing your arms you tried to sink as far back into your couch as you could. You knew how this was going to end. Your instincts for self preservation were completely overshadowed by the desire, or the need, to help people. And besides, if you turned- if something changed in you- who better to take care of it than the Winchesters. “Fine. But! But, you guys are taking care of everything else. If I’m going to be a sweet piece of meat for that thing I’m leaving you in charge of the grunt work.” 

 

The three of you made your plans over a lunch of take out chinese, a lunch that quickly morphed into a dinner as everything was hashed out. It was decided Sam and Dean would drop you off late tonight in the heart of the disappearances. If you managed to lure the Keelut out of hiding you were supposed to call them to come help you kill it. Part of you wondered if you’d have time to reach for your phone while you fought off a giant Native American monster. Another part wondered if the Keelut would even make a dent.

 

Ten p.m. came before you knew it and you were shuffled into the back of the Impala next to two duffle bags filled with weapons. Sam tried to make conversation, glancing back at you every few seconds when he thought you weren’t looking. Dean mostly went on and on about this diner he wanted to try after the hunt. Apparently their pie was the best in the state. Their bickering, the hum of the engine, it shouldn’t have been relaxing but you found yourself nodding off before the car stopped.

 

Eyes bleary you stepped out of the car and stretched. “I suppose it’s time for me to turn on my charm. You guys will be in the area?” 

“Of course. Right after I check out one of those bars.”

 

“Is he serious?” You asked Sam as Dean made a beeline towards the neon lights across the street. He gave you a tight lipped smile, which honestly looked more like a wince.

 

“Yeah he’s okay. Dean drinks a bit more than necessary but he’ll be there if you need him.”

 

“If you say so Sam.” You sighed, head tilted back enjoying the summer air for a moment. “This side of town has always been full of bars and clubs. Easier to be loud when you’re on the edge of the forest. . . I bet it’s easy to pick off a drunk girl in these alleyways.” You walked away from the impala, taking slow steps as Sam trailed behind you. Your head was uncommonly clear this night.

 

But the universe just couldn’t let you have a break just yet.

 

You groaned as the images invaded your head once again. Between flashes of light you saw bits and pieces of images. It was like a film missing half its frames. If you didn’t know any better you’d swear you were seeing through someone else's eyes the way the images came one after the other. It didn’t take long for Sam to notice you hunched over.

 

“(Y/N)?” He walked over to you, gently putting a hand on your back. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

 

“No, no I’m okay. This has just been happening recently.” You panted out. Not telling him that it had never been this bad before.

 

“The visions?” Sam asked.

 

You glanced up at him, bobby must have told him about it. You couldn’t muster the energy to be angry about it now, though. “Yes. Started a few weeks ago, but it’s fine. Really.” Screwing your eyes shut for a moment you took a few slow breaths before the intense nausea that accompanied the visions faded away. “Sam. . . Go get a drink with your brother.”

 

He looked at you with concern filled hazel eyes. “I can’t just-”

 

“You can just.” You interjected. “Look, I’m fine! You’re fine! Let’s just get this over with.” Your tone was desperate and Sam could hear it loud and clear. After a moment of tense silence he finally relented. 

 

“Okay, (Y/N). But I’ll be right behind you.” He promised. You smiled, thanked him, and turned down an alley letting your body settle into a sprint once Sam was out of sight. 

 

You ran until you weren’t nervous anymore. Turned out all this excitement- all this pent up aggression- was great fuel, you went through at least four blocks before remembering you needed to be an easy target. You slowed to a brisk walk as you passed by the dregs of Mystic’s establishments. At first you thought the cold was just wind cooling the sheen of sweat you’d worked up. Then you started shivering. (E/C) eyes scanned the street rapidly, your breath wasn’t clouding up in front of you and there was no other sign of the chill in the air. You crept down the deserted street as you grew colder and colder. Teeth chattering you finally pulled out your phone, dialling Sam’s number.

 

As you lifted it to your ear it, and the rest of you, went flying into a brick wall. Numb hands went to the back of your head and felt the sticky heat of blood. A shadow in the corner of your eye was the only warning the Keelut gave you. The monster was what you always imagined hellhounds to look like. A giant hairless dog with bulging eyes and gleaming teeth. It bared them in a silent snarl as it loped towards you without making a sound. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you needed to run. But your body was so cold. You couldn’t move. You could barely think. 

 

The keelut knew it was about to feed. You were almost gone but you still had a pulse and with it the sweet sweet promise of hot blood. It prowled towards you slowly until you were face to muzzle with the creature, feeling it's ice cold breath against your neck as it opened its jaws. You shut your eyes tight and prepared for the bite that never came.

 

You heard a snap and the keelut was gone. Or, rather, the keelut exploded into a fine mist of blood before it could sink its teeth into you. Almost immediately your temperature returned back to normal. As soon as you could move again you pressed yourself back into the grimmy wall, taking gulping breaths. It took you a minute to compose yourself and to remember that someone, or something, had caused that. Your eyes were drawn to the end of the alley as you stood up. A man was standing there, alone, in the darkness. 

 

As soon as you looked at him you felt something change. There was an emptiness in the pit of your stomach. You wanted something bad but you had no idea what it was. The man tilted his head, dark eyes glued to you. “I’ve been looking for you, Doll.”


	4. I Like Long Walks On The Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't have this one proofread first but I liked it so here it is!!
> 
> Please enjoy!

 

“Who are you?” You whispered as you stumbled to your feet. The man smiled, finger resting on his bottom lip thoughtfully.

 

“I’m more of a ‘what’, sweetheart.” He started coming towards you despite the obvious fear in your eyes. “Not going to hurt you, scouts honor.”

 

“Okay, then, what are you?” Your hand went to the silver dagger strapped to your side. He noticed, ice blue eyes watching you calmly as you brandished the dagger.

 

“(Y/N). I’m your guardian angel,” He spread his hands wide as light began to pour from his body and his smirking face. Two wings sprouted from behind his back, giant ashen grey wings spotted with charcoal black, as his eyes burned red.

 

In the middle of the impressive light show you lurched forward and thrust your knife into his chest.

 

He looked down at the hilt sticking out of his chest. “Oh, good aim, (Y/N). Right in the heart. No, no, I’m not angry,” The angel reassured you as you tried to pull the dagger out of his chest, probably to stab him again. His hand covered yours on the hilt of your blade effectively keeping you trapped. “After all, love hurts.” Another snap and the knife was gone leaving you with your palm pressed flat against his chest. "Did you really think a toothpick that would kill an angel, let alone me?"

 

"Figured it was worth a shot," You whispered tersely as you tried to yank your hand back. Your efforts, however, only prompted him to back you into the wall to keep you pressed against him. You could feel your heart pounding away in your chest but even though your palm was directly above his heart, you couldn't feel anything. Though that wasn't completely true. There wasn’t a heartbeat but you could feel a steady hum under your fingertips. Without thinking you brought your free hand up to rest against his chest. The hum grew louder and louder as the angel leaned closer to you. It was all you could hear, all you could think about, as you felt a cool hand cup your face.

 

“Can you feel that?” He purred against your lips.

 

A deep voice broke you out of your trance and you pulled back with a shallow gasp. “(Y/N)! Are you-” Sam came barreling down the alley, knife drawn. He stopped when he saw you ‘guardian angel’ and you could see the terror and confusion in his eyes. “Lucifer?”

 

“Hey, Sam.” The Devil said calmly. “Usually I’d be here for you but I have more pressing matters than your eventual surrender. . . Although, killing that brother of yours might be worth a little delay. . .” Dean was creeping up from the other end of the alley, gun drawn. Your angel tore his gaze away from you and lifted a hand to kill Dean.

 

“No!” You tried to yell but your voice barely came out as a whimper. Lucifer’s eyes snapped back to yours then down to the hands balled up against him. He didn’t say anything as he snapped his fingers once again.

 

Sam and Dean looked at the spot the two of you had been with a mixture of fear and unabashed confusion. “Did that. . . Did that just happen?” Sam asked, more to himself than to his brother.

  


Meanwhile, over 3,000 miles away, you felt like you’d been through the wash cycle on your busted washing machine. The grass beneath you felt like it was spinning so you tried to anchor yourself to the closest object you could find. Unfortunately that anchor just happened to be the devil himself.

 

“You know, I didn’t think this would be going this well.” Lucifer hummed as he stroked his fingers absentmindedly down your back. You stared up at him in stunned silence. “Most people try to ru-” He cut off as you pushed yourself off of him and broke into a dead sprint. Lucifer sighed as he watched you run away from him. He wasn’t very worried about you getting away at this point, he had made sure you couldn’t, but it would be a pain to see you hurt yourself.

 

“Very rude, (Y/N)!” He called after you.

 

Lucifer might not have been worried but you sure were. You were terrified. Everything in you, every fiber of your being, was telling you to turn back. The archangel was like a magnet to you but thankfully some part of your brain was still working. You ran over deep green grass and jutting white rocks realising all the way that this place looked nothing like anywhere you’d been before. When you got to the cliff you knew for sure that you weren’t in Mystic anymore. Unless Mystic suddenly offered breathtakingly beautiful and dangerous cliffs over the ocean. You peered down at the crashing white water beneath you.

 

“(Y/N). Get away from the edge.”

 

“Why?”

 

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at that. “Because you’re fragile and I don’t want you cracking your pretty little head open on one of those rocks?” He looked calm but you could feel how wary he was seeing you two steps from the drop. You didn’t want to know how you could tell what he was feeling.

 

“No. Just. . . Why? Why am I here? Why aren’t I absolutely terrified of you?”

 

“You looked pretty scared when you were running from me.” Lucifer chuckled. “And look at you. You’re shaking.”

 

“Oh you can bet your pitchfork loving ass that I am completely scared of this situation and would love to keep running from it. And you know what, I have had a STRANGE day.” You ranted, finding that once you started, you couldn’t stop. “No- I’ve had a strange freaking month, honey. So tell me why the hell I’m talking to an archangel that just kidnapped me and dropped me on the freaking edge of whatever continent this is!”

 

“Well, technically, this is an island. And secondly-” His smug smile was back on his face, blue eyes crinkling at the edges, as he opened his arms dramatically. “I’m your soulmate, honey.”


	5. Soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna do this one yesterday but it was my birthday (Yay 20) so I waited another day to finish it up 
> 
> Todays mood is - Hunger by Florence + The Machine

  
  
  


The scenery surrounding you was beautiful. Acres of deep green grass stretched out as far as you could see to your left. To your right was a roaring, stoney, beach sending the scent of the ocean into the air. And in front of you. . . In front of you was your supposed soulmate, sea breeze ruffling his dirty blonde hair, the devil himself. It had been a while since you’d been so confused. And honestly at this point you were feeling completely overwhelmed. Once Lucifer had talked you off the edge of the cliff he had explained that you were, supposedly, his soulmate. Soulmate. . . Someone’s other half, who they belong to. You of course took the news about as well as he thought you would. Disbelief followed by another attempt to run away, sprinkled with some sarcasm. Lucifer had caught you again when you ran, something he promised he’d always do. 

 

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or reassured.

 

“You’re going to have to talk to me eventually.” Lucifer proded. Your (E/C) stayed glued to the grass and clovers beneath you, hands picking at them absentmindedly. 

 

“What do you want me to say?” Came your quiet response. “I don’t know how to handle any of this. I don’t even know if I believe you.”

 

“That’s a lie.” He hummed matter-of-factly. “Don’t look at me like that, (Y/N). You know I’m telling the truth. . . That spark between us can’t be denied.” You turned your vision away again, your glare couldn’t hold up against the calm light of his eyes. Or maybe you just didn’t want to look at him because you were afraid you’d feel what you felt every time your eyes met. That warm ache in your heart that felt alarmingly like longing.

 

“How did you even find me,” You asked, changing the subject.

 

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since you were first thought into existence. . . But I started reaching out to you when I was released from my cage.”

 

You finally looked up. “The visions?” You asked curtley. “That was- that was you?” Lucifer nodded, looking a little too proud about something that had given you nothing but problems.

 

“I needed to see you but you didn’t make it easy. Even now it’s hard to get a clear picture of what’s in your head.”

 

“So were you the one that’s been healing me too?” You guessed, a little desperate to have all your abnormalities explained away. The devil cocked his head and you felt your heart drop.

 

“If I said yes would that make you less afraid of me?” He mused. “Though for something like you I’m sure you could heal yourself almost as well as I could.”

 

“‘Something’ like me?” You repeated. “I’m just a hunter. Hell, this is one of the only really weird things that’s ever happened to me.”

 

Lucifer stared at you blankly before an astonished grin split across his face. “Wait, wait, wait. . .You think you’re human?” If he was being dramatic for a reaction he’d have to settle for a furrowed brow and a disbelieving stare. “My brothers, their soulmates were mortal. Little human ants that came and went. . . But you. . . Oh he promised me you'd be special. And look at you! Half angel half human. Almost makes me forget about the eons I spent locked alone in the cage.” Your angel was obviously ecstatic at being the one to break the news.

 

“I’m not. . . I’m not an angel,” You stammered.

 

“Not a human either. You’d call it a nephilim. And honey the angels are just as disgusted with you as they are with me. That’s what’s perfect about all of this, you and me, two of heavens most wanted being destined for eachother.” You forced yourself to your feet, suddenly feeling nauseous. Lucifer didn’t bother getting up as he watched you start to pace. “Don’t worry though, you’re one of the few things my father made specifically for me. I’ll protect you from the angels. . . And after I’m done reshaping this pitiful planet there won’t be anyone left to hurt you.” 

 

You could tell he was trying to comfort you in his own way but all this information was making your head spin. It was all too much. Lucifer. The Winchesters. Your identity. And now Lucifer wanted you to be a part of the apocalypse. This was absolutely too much to happen in the span of two days. Your brain was going a mile a minute trying to find a way out of all of this.

 

“You said you wanted to- needed to- take care of me. Then let me go,” You whispered, voice shaky. “Let me go home. . . I can’t be a part of this.” Lucifer stood and closed the distance between the two of you. Without breaking eye contact he reached up and cupped your face gently, smiling when you didn’t flinch away from him. You couldn’t fight the power he had over you with just a single touch, your body all but went limp in his arms when he started stroking your cheek with his thumb.

 

“No.” He answered so softly you almost didn’t understand him. “I’m not letting you leave me, sweetheart. I’ve waited so long for you. I’m going to keep you safe. . . Even if that means never letting you out of my sight again.”

 

The last thing you felt was the cool spray of the sea and his lips against your forehead as your world shifted once again.

  
  
  


Back in Mystic Sam and Dean were absolutely stumped by what happened. One second you were almost kissing the devil and the next you were gone. Dean was obviously overjoyed at not having to be resurrected again but it was hard to feel happy when he’d just seen another hunter vanish. They let themselves back into your apartment after searching the alley, just in case, but there wasn’t any sign of you or Lucifer. Dean thought you were dead, Sam thought it was something else.

 

“You didn’t see how he was looking at her,” Sam reasoned. Part of him was glad his brother hadn’t seen what he had. The devil pinning you against the wall of the alley. Him kissing you as you clung to him.

 

“What? Like a snack or like a new vessel?” Came Dean’s gruff reply. He was currently rummaging through your fridge for any sort of beer. As he had crudely put it ‘Dead girls can’t drink’.

 

“He looked at her how you look at pie. And- and, he didn’t kill you when she told him to stop.” Sam sighed as Dean gave him another doubtful glance. “Have you at least called Cas?”

 

“He has,” Came a deep voice after the sound of ruffling feathers. “What do we know about the girl.” Both men jumped at the sound of his voice. 

 

“We gotta get you a bell or something, Cas.” Grumbled Dean, wiping at where he’d spilt your beer over himself.

 

“You called me because Lucifer kidnapped a girl, not to discuss my fashion choices. I need to know if she could be his new vessel. What is her name?”

 

“(Y/N) (L/N), I was thinking she could potentially be a new prophet. She was having visions for a while.” Sam explained.

 

Cas shook his head. “No, Chuck is the current prophet and even if he wasn’t her name isn’t on the list of present or future prophets.” He strode around the room carefully. “There are traces of an angels grace all over this apartment.” Castiel could feel tendrils of grace all over the room. On your favorite mug. The well worn spot on your couch. This grace was new to him it wasn’t from any angel he’d met in heaven or on Earth.

 

“Lucifer’s?” Asked Dean.

 

“No. This is something else. . . Do you know if she was being possessed by another angel at the time?” The boys both shared a dumbfounded look. “ . . . Well I should be able to track this grace to its source.”

 

“Thanks, Cas, we rea-” Sam was cut off by the sound of wings flapping. “And he’s gone.” The boys could only shrug, hoping that their friend could find you.


	6. You're No Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every positive comment I get on this refills one of my heart's. Just gonna warn you guys-shit happens in the next chapter.
> 
> Also I've written over 22 pages of this on Google docs. . . .

You snuggled deeper into your covers as the morning light filtered into your room. This was the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time, there was no way you were going to let the sun ruin it. The sun apparently had other plans. A ray of light shone right onto your sleeping face effectively waking you from your slumber. You blinked up at the stark white ceiling as you stretched out. 

 

‘That’s strange,’ You thought. ‘Wasn’t the ceiling of my room blue?’ It took you a second to realise you weren’t in your bedroom at all. You shot up, pushing off the thick white comforter, and looked around the room. It was almost completely empty. The only items were the barest furniture essentials: a king sized bed, nightstand, dresser and mirror. The only splash of color was a stack of clothes folded neatly on the dresser. To your horror they looked exactly like the clothes you were wearing. Make that ‘used to be’ wearing. A quick glance down revealed you were in nothing but a large green T-shirt.

 

Definitely not the one Lucifer had been wearing.

 

You creeped shyly towards the dresser, keeping an eye on the door, and rummaged through the drawers until you found panties and pants. The fact that it was stocked with some of your favorite styles of clothes didn’t even shock you at this point. Once you had been sufficiently dressed you tried to open the door; it actually opened. (E/C) eyes peeked around the doorway seeing a completely normal hallway with a lone woman sitting at the end of it. She looked up at you, black eyes glinting in the low light.

 

“Well hello, sunshine.” She drawled. “It’s about time you woke up.”

 

You were once again on edge seeing the demon lounging on a plush armchair. “Who are you?” You asked while you inched out into the hall cautiously. 

 

“I’m Meg. You’re (Y/N). And I’ve been ordered not to hurt you so you can stop trying to sneak around me.”

 

“Ordered by Lucifer I’m guessing?”

 

“Bingo! Smart girl, no wonder he likes you.” From her sarcastic tone and the way she was sizing you up you could tell she didn’t.

 

You stopped trying to sneak around her, opting instead to just walk straight up to her. “Am I allowed to explore this place?” You asked.

 

“Go ahead. I’m here to serve,” Meg replied with a lazy wave of her hand. She knew you were going to make a beeline for the exit, but she knew you wouldn’t make it out. 

 

The house was as empty as your room had been. It looked like someone had tried to make it as comfortable as possible without putting any personality into it. The stairway at the end of the hall led you to a big living room connected to a kitchen that looked like it came straight out of Southern Home Living. In the back of your mind you couldn’t help wondering if Lucifer had made this place for you, or if he had just kicked some nice old lady out on the curb. You let your hand trail over the cool leather of the couch as your eyes roamed the room. There were no guards and a quick glance at the stairs told you Meg hadn’t bothered coming down. The front door was right in front of you, three feet at most. 

 

It felt too easy- but you can’t blame a girl for trying. As soon as you touched the handle a cold chill filled the room letting you know Lucifer was with you. You turned away from the door and faced your soulmate head on. “I hope you weren’t trying to leave. You might hurt my feelings.” He told you, an exaggerated pout on his face.

 

“Why would I. I love being trapped in a bland Barbie dreamhouse.”

 

“Oof.” He placed a hand over his heart. “You know I made this place for you. It’s not exactly my speed but I figured the human part of you would appreciate it. If I’d known you’d try to run as soon as you woke up I wouldn’t have stocked the fridge so well.”

 

“Well I would have stabbed you again in that alley if I’d known you were going to strip me.” You retorted.

 

He shrugged halfheartedly; blue eyes crinkling.“Oh modesty is such a human emotion, sweetheart. And there’s no way in hell I’d let anyone else do it.” Lucifer circled around you to lean against the wooden door. “Why do you keep fighting me anyways? I thought we were over all that.”

 

You raised an eyebrow at that. “You do realise you kidnapped me right? You’re keeping me locked in here.”

 

“Door’s not locked.” He said the same way someone would say ‘grass is green’. When you gave him a disbelieving look he stepped away, holding his hands out towards the door. (E/C) eyes shifting from him to the door handle and back again. He watched calmly as you turned the handle and pulled the door open. “Told you.”

 

“Now,” He lightly pushed the door shut, much to your annoyance. “Are you going to hear me out? I promise to let you go if you want after I’m done.”

 

“What do you have to say that I could possibly be interested in?” Lucifer gave you a sly smile and you suddenly found yourself on the couch, one of his arms draped over your shoulders. 

 

“We’re bonded, (Y/N). And no, before you ask, this isn’t a Beauty and The Beast kind of thing. Because face it, we’re both too sexy for either of us to be the Beast. But seriously- I brought you here to keep you safe.”

 

“From what? I’ve been fine on my own for the last 23 years, Luce.” ‘Luce’ cocked his head at that, lips pulling up into a smirk.

 

“From the angels. You remember me telling you what they thought of Nephilim like you?” He prompted. “Well you’re one of two left on Earth. There used to be more, so many more. But the angels saw how powerful they were. How unpredictable they were. Heaven decided it was a crime to be a Nephilim.” 

 

“But I. . . I never even knew I was a Nephilim. There’s nothing special about me.”

 

“That’s not true. You may not have discovered any of your powers yet but you’re still one of the most unique things I’ve ever seen. And the angels- they don’t care. They’re all smiting and no talking.” Lucifer told you bitterly.

 

“So you’re just going to keep me in this house until the end of the apocalypse? If there even is an end.” You scoffed, rising to your feet.

 

“I’m not going to keep you here against your will, lover. But I'm always going to keep an eye out for you. It would just be a lot easier to do that in a fortified hideout.” He tried to catch your gaze but you were too busy mulling all this over. You wanted to believe he was lying but he'd done nothing but promise to save you since you met. That and he'd saved you from being mauled by the Keelut.

 

This was still a lot to handle and you found yourself heading towards the door, well aware of Lucifer trailing behind you. You weren’t surprised when his arm snaked around your waist. “Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to your parents?” He leaned over you, hand covering yours. He could see you take in breath after shuddering breath. “Even conceiving a Nephilim is punishable by death, (Y/N).” 

 

Lucifer was there to catch you when your legs gave out. Memories you’d rather forget flooded your mind. The foster homes. Being bounced around from family to family. The abuse. Finally running away. The only thing keeping you grounded was Lucifer’s cold chest against your back. Almost instinctively you turned in his grasp, wrapping your arms tightly around him. There was a little voice in your head screaming this was wrong. He’s the devil for God’s sake. But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt safe.

 

“So, I’ve said my piece. . . You still want to leave?” He asked as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

 

“No.” You whispered. 

 

Lucifer pressed himself closer to you, his stubble brushing against your neck. “Then welcome home, princess.”


	7. Your Princess Is In Another Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter yet. . . .. . ........... I may come back through and edit some stuff! Tell me what you think!

It had been weeks since Lucifer had brought you here. The only real company you had was Meg and Lucifer himself. You could probably chalk it up to stockholm syndrome, but you had grown to like Meg during your time here. What could you say, she had spunk. Lucifer, however, was an enigma to you. Half of the time you were rolling your eyes at some crude joke he’d made, trying to hide the smile on your face, and the other half left you wondering if you could really trust him. He’d never laid a hand against you but you knew what happened when he left you alone for days. He was the devil, starting the apocalypse that would wipe out humanity. . . But he was also your soulmate. These were the kind of thoughts that kept you up at night and plagued you when you were daydreaming.

 

You had plenty of time to think about it today; both Meg and Lucifer were leaving the house. Leaving you with little to do.

 

“I’ll be back before you know it, doll. I left you a little something upstairs if you start missing me too much,” Lucifer winked at you. No doubt he’d left another photo of himself on your pillow. 

 

“Okay, Luce, I’m sure I’ll treasure it.” You replied. It took all your willpower not to smile back when he grinned smugly at the sound of his nickname. You didn’t pull away when he leaned in and kissed your cheek, it had become his tradition whenever he left you. You didn't know when you'd gotten so relaxed around him. But you had started to expect the contact, even looking forward to it.

 

Meg watched the two of you lazily. She'd gotten over the majority of her jealousy, or maybe Lucifer had just threatened to kill her if she wasn't friendly. “You want me to kiss your other cheek, sunshine?”

 

“I'm good,” You chuckled. 

 

Your angel spared you one last glance as he and Meg both stepped out of the doorway and disappeared. Just like that you were left alone in the house. Luce had told you he'd be back tomorrow, and he'd definitely been gone longer before, but that didn't mean you liked it. Believe it or not Lucifer's constant vying for your attention actually gave you something to do. 

 

Though today it looked like you'd be reading alone in the living room again. The books Luce would bring you were usually the size of small cars- excluding the time he brought you the novella of Casa Erotica- and they were filled with lore. He certainly knew how to treat a hunter right.

 

Today's book covered the relation of Hell and Purgatory. Four hours in had you contemplating the relation of sleeping and the couch. The house was completely silent, you couldn’t even hear the footsteps of the demons patrolling outside. Placing your book down you wandered back upstairs, hoping to at least get some sleep tonight. Your hopes were dashed when you caught sight of the person on your bed.

 

You stared at the woman, it was the demon Lucifer had replaced Meg with when they left. She was holding a photograph, the one Lucifer must have left you, running her fingers over it tenderly.

 

“You’re lucky, you know.” She stated, rising from your bed. “Demons would kill to be in your position. . . Hell, I just might.” That was the only warning she gave you as she pulled out a wicked looking knife. Your skills were dulled from the weeks of doing nothing but research and your mind was still foggy with sleep. She landed the first blow on you, flinging you through the open doorway. You had the wind knocked out of you and barely avoided her second attack. Rolling to the side to dodge a slash of her blade. 

 

You found yourself at the end of the hall, faced with three options. Option one, stay and fight, even though you don't have a weapon. Option two, the window, a two story drop. And three, charge her and hopefully make it outside to one of the guards. Let's go with lucky number three.

 

You dashed forward, bringing your elbow harshly into her gut. She was ready for you, however, and you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder as she threw you to the ground. Her knife glistened with blood as she pulled it from you. The grin on her face fading slightly as you began to heal, skin closing.

 

“You little freak. Though I guess that just means I can torture you longer.”

 

The demon’s blade sank into your shoulder painfully slow, entering right where your wound had almost healed. “God I can’t imagine what he sees in you.” A twist of the knife brought another scream from your mouth. “I could be just as good as you- fuck- better even. I doubt you even know how to please a man, I mean, look at you. You’re barely pretty. You’re just another face in the crowd.” Without warning she pulled the knife out of you; a wicked grin on her face. “That just gave me a great idea, whore. I’m going to take that face right off.” 

 

You closed your eyes as the blade bit in to your cheek and prayed to the only angel you knew. ‘Lucifer, please, I need help.’ The next second your attacker was thrown off of you. Her head hitting the wall so hard the drywall caved in. 

 

Lucifer looked terrifying. His wings were puffed out, eyes glowing bright red and for the first time since you’d met him- he actually looked angry. “What do you think you’re doing?” He snarled. The demon threw herself at his feet.

 

“My lord, I was only doing what’s best for you! This half breed doesn’t deserve to be by your side!” She groveled, even going so far as grabbing at his jeans.

 

“. . . You’re right.” Lucifer hummed. He stared down at the demon thoughtfully. “You deserve so much more than this, don’t you?” Lucifer outstretched a hand down to her. 

 

“Thank you my lord! Lucifer I-” No sooner than she put her hand in his it found its way across the hall. Her wrist a bloody stump. 

 

“(Y/N) get back in your room.” He growled. Lucifer looked at her without pity as she opened and closed her mouth wordlessy. The first of many blows knocked her out of her stupor. Her screams were so human you had to keep reminding yourself of what she really was. She must have realised begging and pleading weren’t getting her anywhere because a thick cloud of black smoke started to leave her mouth- something Lucifer stopped with a hand to her throat. He looked up at you again, face covered with blood. “Go. Now.”

 

You didn’t need another reminder. 

 

The walls of the room did little to muffle what was happening outside. It felt like hours before Lucifer finally stopped and walked into your room. He was covered in blood, hair, bits of bone. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’d simply blown her up not beat her to death with his bare hands. 

 

“Lucifer,” You whispered. “Luce, you’re covered in . . .” You trailed off and he looked down at himself. The blood was gone when he grabbed your waist, pulling you close. Your soulmate’s hands went to your shoulder then to your cheek. He finally seemed to relax when he found nothing but dried blood where she’d stabbed you. 

 

“Why did you wait so long to call for me?”

 

“I’m sorry. . . I thought I could handle it. I was- I was wrong.”

 

“You thought you could handle it or that you couldn’t trust me enough to call?” Lucifer looked so pained, so tired. He looked human and it broke your heart to see him like this. 

 

You pressed your lips to his gently, almost cautiously. The pleased groan that left his mouth was like honey to your ears. He leaned closer and ran his cool tongue over your bottom lip, asking you to let him in. You happily obliged. Lucifer’s wings enclosed the two of you as he twined a hand through your (H/C) hair. God how he wished you didn’t need to breathe, he would have kept you there forever. His hands roaming your skin as the two of you poured your hearts into this kiss. You reached up, grabbing at whatever part of him you could find, forcing a pained hiss from his lips.

 

You immediately pulled back. “Luce did I hurt you?” Your hands were tangled in the base of his wings, feathers poking out every which way.

 

“No, my feathers just got a bit ruffled during that fight,” He explained, though fight was hardly the word you would have used. “That and they haven’t been groomed in hundreds of years.” He spread them out and you were amazed by how big they were, and that you hadn’t noticed how messy his wings were before. There were feathers sticking up at odd angles, bent feathers, ones that looked like they were half burnt off. 

 

“You know,” He started. “If you want to thank me for saving you . . .” Lucifer trailed off, wings moving suggestively. He grinned like a schoolboy given candy when you rolled your eyes and told him to go sit on your bed.

 

You stood behind him, figuring that grooming wings would be a lot like detangling hair. Starting at the base you were surprised by how soft they were. You’d reach a broken or charred one occasionally but most of them were incredibly pleasant to touch. Your second surprise came when you ran your hands through a particularly rough spot. As you tugged a few feathers loose Lucifer’s head tilted back and he let out a, very deep, groan.

 

“Did that hurt?” You asked hesitantly, even though you already knew the answer. Still, he shook his head no and you continued moving along his wing. By the time you were done there were feathers all over the ground, Lucifer was a panting mess, and you were feeling more than a bit aroused. 

 

Lucifer looked up at you with heavy lidded eyes when you stopped touching him. “Should’a done that ages ago.” His gaze trailed over you as you stood before him. Your cheeks were flushed and you were having a hard time looking him in the eye. Hell, he could practically smell how aroused you were. “That felt really good, Princess.”

 

“I can tell.” Your eyes were glued to the prominent bulge in his light blue jeans. 

 

In the blink of an eye you were under him, his wings covering you in darkness. “I should return the favor,” He purred. You bit back a gasp as he slid a cool hand under your shirt lifting it up as he trailed upwards. “I’ve watched you humans do this for a milenia,” 

 

Your shirt was now thrown across the room with your bra quickly following behind. You tried to cover yourself, years of body negativity and insecurity kicking in, in a flash your hands were pinned above your head by something you couldn’t quite see. Lucifer was staring at you with eyes like embers. 

 

“Don’t you try and hide from me, I want to see. Every. Part. Of. You.” He punctuated each word with a sloppy kiss to your stomach heading down until he reached the band of your pants. Fingers hooked around both the edge of your pants and your panties he pulled them down with one swift stroke before settling in between your legs. 

 

“Luce, I've- I've never really done this.” You admitted. It shouldn't feel embarrassing but it did. You were 23 and still a virgin, never experiencing the clumsy first love sex your friends had in high school.

 

He paused before explaining. “Humans think of me as the creator of all sin but I’ve never really felt the urge to partake in it. . . How does it feel to know you’ll be the first woman the devil’s ever been inside. The only woman.” Lucifer corrected. He ground his hips against yours experimentally, grinning when you let out a breathy moan.

 

“How does it feel to know you’ll be mine?” You countered, suddenly feeling brave. Lucifer leaned in, lips barely brushing against yours.

 

“Like heaven.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before moving on to your unmarred neck. As he left deep hickeys on your skin you couldn’t help but focus on the jean clad erection pressing against your core, now slightly wet with your arousal.

 

“Luce,” You started- bringing his smouldering gaze back to your face. “Am I the only one who’s going to be naked?” 

 

Lucifer smirked at your nervous words. “Eager are we?” He teased, even though seconds later he used his powers to completely strip his vessel. Leaving you pressed against a very naked archangel. You still couldn’t believe this was happening. But you didn't want it to stop.

 

“I need you to tell me you want me.” Whispered Lucifer, his eyes flicking between yours and your aching sex. 

 

Your response was immediate. “Yes, Lucifer. Ye-ahh,” Lucifer didn’t wait for you to finish to slip a finger into you, curling it in just the right way. He had you moaning almost immediately. Lucifer wanted to slam his hips into yours immediately but he still had his vessels memories. He knew how important it was to get you nice and ready for him. But with each moan and whimper you let out as he fingered you it grew harder and  _ harder _ for him to hold back. 

 

After one particularly sensual sound left your lips he decided he’d had enough. Lucifer pulled his finger from your sopping wet pussy and grabbed your hips with bruising force. He lined himself up and gave you one final lust filled look before sinking into you.

 

He could tell from the first thrust that he was hooked. You were so deliciously hot around his cock that he felt as if he was melting. 

 

There wasn’t any pain like you had feared, just the feeling of being stuffed to the brim. Just Lucifer. His cock felt cold inside of you, it should've felt strange but the contrast between burning hot and cold made your head spin. Lucifer bottomed out inside of you. His hips pressed firmly against your own as he reveled in the sensations of sex. You had to snap him out of his reverie with a clumsy push of your hips. The next thing you knew he was rocking himself in and out of you, letting out low moans as he went.

 

Lucifer had taken complete control over you. Your hands were still pinned above you, the bond only loosening as you reached your climax. Arms wrapped around his vessel’s broad shoulders and your nails bit into your skin. Lucifer didn’t let up even as you squirmed beneath him, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He took longer to reach his end, his inhuman stamina carrying him through how your walls tightened like a vice around him. With a final snap of his hips you felt him cum in you, the liquid just as cold as the rest of him.

 

He straightened himself up, still not pulling out of you. This was the most angelic you’d ever seen him. He looked so serene, wings drooping slightly as he gazed at you with heavy lidded blue eyes. “You alright?” Lucifer asked, body finally separating from yours. 

 

“M’ great,” You sighed with a hoarse voice. The bed was begging to feel like the most comfortable thing in the world as the post-orgasmic haze tried to lull you to sleep. Your soulmate pressed another kiss to your lips before settling down next to you. You were surprised when he pulled the blanket around the two of you, careful not to disturb his wings.

 

“This vessel is worn pretty thin,” He explained, voice low and smooth. “I wouldn’t mind giving it a rest.” Lucifer wrapped his arms around you, his body pleasantly cool against your heated skin.

 

“I didn’t know you could sleep,” You hummed, yawning contently. 

 

“I can, just don’t do it because it’s pointless. You have thoroughly worn me out though.” He draped a wing over you, keeping you close to him.

 

You had completely stopped fighting the pull you felt towards him. The way he had clung to you after saving you from the demon. How he moaned your name during sex. All these things led you to the same conclusion.

 

After a few minutes you broke the silence. “I think I may be falling for you,” You admitted.

 

“Well you know me, I've already fallen.”

  
  


The sound of rain pulled you from your slumber. Your soulmate was still asleep so you had to slip out from under his protective wing. Lucifer grumbled, pulling a pillow closer once you got out of bed. Carefully slipping on some of last nights discarded clothes before you headed downstairs. Wherever Lucifer had made this place it barely rained. He probably didn’t think that far into location, and you couldn’t really blame him, but that didn’t mean you missed it any less. You creeped downstairs towards the front door; smiling when you reached the porch and could feel the warm air hit your body.

 

This was one of the most relaxing things to you. The steady noise of warm rain hitting the ground. You let your gaze move lazily over the outside world as the rain began to soak you. There were tall pine trees surrounding you, the noises of birds and bugs coming from their branches, and on the ground there was. . . You paused. There was a body lying on the ground, facing you. It looked like someone had taken a hot iron rod to their eyes. 

 

Without warning a man in a beige trenchcoat appeared before you, placed a hand to your head, and whisked you away.

 

When you looked around you could tell you were in Bobby’s house. He and the Winchesters were standing close to you, obviously overjoyed that their plan had worked. You wanted to be happy to see them again. But all you could feel- all you could hear- was Lucifer’s panic and then his enraged scream. You thought you were the only one to hear it but Castiel soon cupped his hands over his ears as the building began to shake.

 

The devil was not happy you were gone.


	8. Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late/short! Classes have been kicking my butt (who knew International Relations would be all about politics and reading ugh). This chapter is a bit shorter just because I wanted to post something and I felt like adding too much into it wasn't a great idea.
> 
> Trigger warning for child abuse
> 
> (Also, for those asking about Jack. . . . yes, he is going to be in the story ;) )

 

One of the earliest memories you could recall was the first day of second grade. You were a skinny kid in dirty oversized clothes. Your teacher was tactless and in your mind, cruel, as she pulled you to the front of the classroom. Why didn’t you have any school supplies? This class wasn’t a charity, you know. You wish you could have told her the note she sent home with you got you a broken arm.

 

No matter where you went it was always the same. Adults tried to ‘help’ you but they never really believed anything was really happening to you. Foster home after foster home made you realise that either the world sucked, or you just had the worst luck imaginable. After being sent to your fifth family you decided it was just you. This place looked the best out of all the homes before, and even at 16 you were still hopeful to find a decent family to stay with. The white colonial style house reminded you of the old t.v. shows you’d catch a glimpse of. The stay at home mom with her two children, one girl and one boy, and their hard working dad.

 

For the first few weeks you were happy there. The foster parent was one lone man, Paul, made rich through the steel industry. Railroads and cars, he’d tell you, best thing to ever happen to him. He didn’t look too old, so you chalked the railroad talk up to stories from his family. He was a kind man and took in as many children as he could. You never saw less than ten living in the house. For the first time in your life you actually started gaining weight, no longer looking like a bulimic teen. 

 

It wasn’t until later you noticed kids disappearing. It started with Jose; a runaway from California. Then a month later it was Millie. Then Chuck. All the kids were previous offenders, they’d all run away from homes before. But it didn’t sit right with you. Millie had told you how happy she was here the day before she ran. She told you how wonderful it was to have a real home at last.

 

She wouldn’t have run away.

 

Asking Paul got you nowhere. ‘I miss her too, (Y/N). But Millie was a very troubled girl.’ He told you. Each attempt to dig deeper into it was brushed off and you were left feeling lost. . . Until you saw Paul taking the newest member of the family into the only locked door in the house. Silently thanking your body for needing water at two a.m., you followed behind them as stealthily as you could. The door opened to a pitch black staircase that ended in what you guessed was the basement. As you slowly stepped down the stairs you could hear wet noises and grunts coming from the right. Fearing the worst, you peeked around the corner.

 

This was so much worse than what you had thought. Instead of the scene of sexual assault you were fearing Paul was leaned over the child, his teeth pulling lumps of flesh from their neck. When he pulled back you could see his mouth was full of fangs. The gasp that left your lips didn’t go unnoticed. As soon as his wide yellow eyes locked on yours you bolted up the stairs, throwing the door shut behind you. You could hear him clawing at the door as you ran out of the house. To this day you still don’t know how you made it out of there. What you did know- was that your world had been changed forever. What you saw in there wasn’t human and searching for answers sent you down a rabbit hole.

 

Two months later you returned to the house, silver dagger in hand, only to find a tired man in a baseball cap. Bobby Singer. You owed so much to that man. He was the one who trained you to be a hunter. He was the one you could call if you didn’t know if it was a rougarou or a werewolf.

 

Back in the present, you were worried circumstances out of your control may be the death of him. The building kept shaking as Lucifer’s scream rang in your ears. Castiel was the first to move, he strode towards you and placed a hand on your chest causing you to shout out in pain. It felt like your ribs were burning. The pain finally faded but Castiel was staring at you in confusion. 

 

“What was that?” You asked as the shaking subsided.

 

“Warding sigils. But your ribs . . . repaired themselves.” He explained shorty. Without another word he grabbed a nearby pen and started writing different symbols on your arms. When he was done your forearms were covered in ink. “I doubt they would have stayed if I had burned them on.”

 

“Who are you?” (E/C) eyes meeting his deep blue irises. “What is this stuff?”

 

“This is Castiel, (Y/N). He’s an angel. A good angel,” Sam added, seeing you back away from the man. “He tracked you to that house a while back but we weren’t able to rescue you because of the warding and the demons guarding the place. But after what happened last night. . . We knew we had to try.”

 

“What happened last night?” You asked nervously. Your thoughts going back to your night with Lucifer. There’s no way they were talking about that. . . Right? The boys looked amongst themselves for a second and you could see how tired they were, how beat down. Whatever happened last night had to have been something bad.

 

“You remember Ellen and Joe?” Bobby asked you.

 

You nodded cautiously. “Yeah?” The sigh he gave you wasn’t reassuring at all.

 

“You may want to sit down, (Y/N).” 

  
  



	9. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's alive, fuckers

You sat on Bobby’s old couch, head held in your hands. You felt like the room was still shaking. Ellen was like a mother to you and Joe was the closest thing to a little sister you ever had. You had spent christmas with them last year. As you stared vacantly ahead you wondered if Joe had died wearing the silver necklace you got her. 

 

“How? . . . When? Tell me everything.”

 

“We had a plan to kill the Devil but. . . He was expecting us. We went to Carthage and the whole town was empty except for a few hundred reapers. This bitch of a demon sicked her hellhounds on us and we holed up in a hardware store . . . Ellen and Joe sacrificed themselves to save us.”

 

“Yeah and it didn't do shit!” Dean exclaimed. “The Colt didn't work and Lucifer still summoned Death! They died for nothing.”

 

The pieces came together in your mind and the sudden realization of why Lucifer and Meg had been gone last night hit you like a punch to the gut. You had lost your virginity to the man that murdered two of your closest friends. Much to your embarrassment you abruptly flung yourself off the couch towards Bobby’s sink and emptied your guts into it. Bobby patted your back as you shuddered, hunched over. 

 

“S-sorry, I. . . God I don't know what's happening anymore.”

 

“It's okay, (Y/N). God knows what that monster was doing to you.” Said Bobby.

 

“He didn't do anything to me, Bobby. That's what's so fucked up about this.” You rinsed your face off, staring at the water, before turning to face the boys. “He uh, he told me I was his soul mate. . .” The looks of surprise and disgust were exactly what you were expecting.

 

Dean voiced his thoughts eloquently as always. “What the fuck?”

 

“Yeah that pretty much sums it up.” You chuckled half-heartedly. 

 

“(Y/N) what do you mean soulm-”

 

“Did you see his wings?” Castiel interrupted Sam. 

 

“I- yeah? I mean don't all angels have them?”

 

“We do, but you can't see mine now can you? An angel’s wings are only visible to their soulmate. Even other angels cannot see them.”

 

“So. . . He was telling the truth? I'm soulmates with Satan?” You asked, though you already knew the answer. 

 

Cas nodded solemnly. “It seems so. We need to find a permanent way to ward you against him and the other angels.”

 

“Why the other angels?” Asked Sam. 

 

“Well, I'm not sure they would react well to the fact Lucifer's soulmate has surfaced. Or the fact that she's a nephilim. Nephilim are traditionally seen as disgusting creatures, a crime against God.”

 

“Oh geez. Thanks.” You muttered. “Lucifer did tell me about some of that. He said that's why he brought me to that house, to keep me safe from other angels. Though it was probably just to keep you from finding me. . . So what do we do now?”

 

Your question was met with blank stares.

 

Ten minutes later you were sat on Bobby's couch watching Castiel instruct Bobby on how to properly write Enochian. They had decided to hook you up with a necklace covered in sigils instead of trying to brand you again. Needless to say, you preferred this option. The boys had taken the news of you being the devil's soulmate relativity easily. Though they had been through their fair share of shit at this point. Hell, you had heard Dean had actually been to. . . Hell. Sam had been addicted to demon’s blood and gained supernatural powers. You were relatively normal in comparison. . .

 

However the more judgemental of the two brothers was currently staring you down from across the room. You tried to ignore it but those hazel eyes felt like daggers. He really had the brooding older brother look down pat.

 

“Dean please stop looking at me like that. I'm not evil, I'm not going to suddenly try to start the apocalypse. I can't . . . I can't choose my soulmate.” He paused, setting his beer down. When he looked up you could see pity in his eyes.

 

“I know, kid. But you gotta admit this whole situation is messed up. I mean- the person you're meant to end up with is Satan. Pitchfork and all.”

 

You chuckled, albeit humorlessly. “So you feel sorry for me?” He stammered for an excuse but you cut him off. “It's alright, I feel sorry for me too. Mostly I'm just confused though. I dunno. It's just a lot to take in.” What you didn't tell him it's how guilty you felt. How you could still feel the steady pull at your heart. . .

 

“. . . I'd honestly much rather talk about what's going to happen now that Death has been released on the world.” You continued. Dean seemed relieved at the change of topic. He told you how there have been several big storms and earthquakes in the hours since Death emerged. The loss of life was predicted to be enormous. You honestly didn’t know what else you expected. It  _ was _ Death after all. Dean and you discussed it for a few minutes, what omens and signs would appear, any plans they had to deal with Death. Hell, could he even be killed?

 

Bobby interrupted your brain storming when he wheeled over to you, necklace in hand. You slipped it on as Castiel explained how it worked.

 

“It’s like the sigils I carved into Sam and Dean’s ribs, it should keep you hidden from all angels as long as you wear it. Though just to be safe I would avoid praying to him.” 

 

“Right. That’s great, I can help you guys now. At least without all this ink on my arms.” Again your idea was met by silence.

 

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.” Sam reasoned. “I mean, not until we get this hole thing sorted out.”

 

“Well I could still help from up here? Do research and that sort of thing.”

 

Bobby shook his head. “No. You’re going in the panic room, Missy. We’ll get you out again when we put that son of a bitch in the dirt.”

  
  
  


“. . . Excuse me?”


End file.
